


Tick Tick

by Kaiseilin



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: Angst, Gen, Mourning, Poetic, Post Reichenbach
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-25
Updated: 2012-03-25
Packaged: 2017-11-02 12:46:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/369117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaiseilin/pseuds/Kaiseilin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John feels like a broken watch.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tick Tick

Tuesday.

 

He's a man of routine and of rule, so he gets up.

 

He washes. Shaves. Puts on a shirt and jeans and ignores his socks and shoes this time. He won't need them. He ignores the paper because he knows what they say today. He sits in his chair and stares at the one opposite him like always.

 

Nobody stares back this time.

 

Nobody talks, or reads, or argues. No comments on the weather, on his clothing, the case, his life.

 

Nothing.

 

There are holes in his routine now. Soft little holes all over him that will stretch and rip the fabric of his skin apart before long. The flat is so silent he can hear the watch on his wrist tick and he counts the ticking because it's all he can do.

 

He feels like the watch. Older. An old skeleton pocket watch who had to be wound on every two hours to keep itself ticking in time. John was a skeleton, all cogs ticking in time.

 

_Tick Tick._

 

He'd had a winder.

 

_Tick Tick._

 

 _Had_.

 

Now he felt like the pocket watch who'd lost it's owner and wound itself out of time. Out of place, ticking on, desperately out of sync while the rest of the world ticked on in its separate time stream. He'd felt like this before. Stuck in his own broken time warp.

 

This time nobody would pick him up and wind him back to rightness.

 

_Tick Tick._

 

Life would continue on.

 

_Tick Tick._

 

While he would struggle to keep up.

 

_Tick Tick._

 

Until, without his winder, it takes it's toll.

 

_Tick Tick._

 

And wears his cogs out.

 

_Tick Tick._

 

So sits there broken.

 

_Tick Tick._

 

The watch with no pocket.

 

Tick Tick.

 

While the rest of the world ticks on.

 

 


End file.
